That’s for grown social media posts.
She’s unbelievable.
Look at her,
a stage in the groundwater.
The American field,
this is a story of S. Nithish.
That’s been the biggest disappointment in my life so far.
Will fill you Earth
that suffering.
Nithish is gone.

Two sizes too small,
India to deal with it.
I came I went I sorrow.
Let’s explode these pleasantries.
Demon monsters,
can you imagine,
rule over kids in Pondicherry?
You hear this mother beat her kid with ‘em.
No one will help me stop that,
and I can’t see my kid.
Stuff like this
you get away from.
You don’t entertain them with your kids.
Cruelty is as cruelty does.

How’d we do that,
let that happen?
The absence of miracle
might wanna tell you
there’s a mountain.
The boy’s in there.
Double helper,
somebody call Nithish one.
He will help me,
and there is a fantastic here,
and this is Auroville’s:
he will tell the story far and wide,
help evolution
so a kid don’t get beat
anywhere on Earth.

But India,
he’s gonna show to the world first.
She beats her children.
Her children get beat there,
and not a kid gets saved.
It’s normal for parents to beat their children in India
the Puducherry Child Welfare Committee told me,
and Nithish was sittin’ right there
cryin’.
You think that’s funny?
They were laughin’ with his mother afterwards.

Nowhere left to go.
There is not a person that can help me,
not anywhere on the planet.
You would not believe the list
I’ve bade to help me.
They’ve all laughed,
or if they felt empathy,
they just put it down.
It amounted to nothing more than a pencil spray.

No one helped
while I was crushed under the wheels of this revolving universe.
No one even thought they should.
I just sat there and died.
I’ve unlocked cruelty,
like it’s the bowels of the Earth.
People just showed it to me.
Never see my boy again,
like he’d been killed in a car accident.
The grief is the same.

A mother and father landed guilt.
I was their son’s first choice,
and this had been going on for years,
until their jealousy came to such a pitch
they decided to punish me for it,
punish their son too.
I would never see my boy again.
They knew the bond.

I did nothing wrong,
but they made me out to be a monster
trying to steal their son.
Everybody on the planet believed them.
I don’t even talk about
the underbelly of hell I went through.
Insanity grabbed my clothes.
Things I cannot speak about visited me.
I’m a seer you see,
wide open to the universe.

The divine I looked to to save me abandoned me.
Even my soul cried.
I was a baby for a moment.
I lost everything about me
and just became blind reaction.
I lost the whole world.
Everybody turned their backs to me.
This was horrible suffering.
I couldn’t get out of it.
I just swallowed of hell
as each day wore on.

You don’t know the price of suffering
when your boy is still alive and you can hold him
if but that people could feel your pain.
Why wouldn’t anyone let me?
The boy was not in a casket.
The mother reveled in this.
She made me pay for her inadequacies.
She shielded her son from me
by holding her hand over his face
or keeping him behind her
when meeting had brought us together.
No one questioned this
or thought it odd.
This was India at its worst.

That mother got her revenge
because I was a better mother to that child,
and everybody let her do it,
the Law,
the Child Welfare Committee,
the rule of India.
No one spoke of reconciliation or healing.
Fairness and wisdom were not to be found.
It was get that foreigner
and make him pay
for superior
being some question we ask ourselves.
Why would you use it?
Can we just get to development
with our humanity in our hands?

I don’t think you understand the price of cruelty.
It sums up our bad day.
It haunts us at night
in our dreams.
It makes us slap our children
because we can’t admit it’s there.
Can I show it to you?
I can’t see my son,
and you all agree with that
because I give you an opportunity to be cruel.

You can get away with it.
I’m not anybody special.
You don’t have to defer to me,
and I hold the foreigner’s worth.
That’s not quite a human being
with the locals.
Would you just principally see that
Tamil Nadu?
Hateful
right up to say Indian.

Cruel,
there’s not a name for it in India
they are just so cruel,
the Indians I called to help.
Have I overlooked you Masil Johnson?
You didn’t help.
You sure didn’t help.
One childhood,
did anybody stop that mother from toring it asunder?

I’m gonna have to look after civilians.
Madras Dyslexia Association will you come to help?
Everybody his mother beats him for dyslexia,
not just for loving me.
You’re like really stupid.
How many people say dyslexia here?
No, you won’t mention the abuse.
You don’t know how to handle it.
Parental rights,
even the welfare of the child is small in comparison.

You don’t even see mothers beating their children.
Nithish has that in arm.
The cruelty of his mother,
everybody look at this please.
Look halfway around the world.
You know America beats her children too.

Okay Nithish you’re up.
That’s my emergency.
You heard me.
Stop my mother from beating me,
come on.
Soon a major character,
where we stop kids from getting hit,
my little boy Nithish.

I got no out here to accept.
He got no in there to…
That’s your final.
He makes things right just by bein’ himself.
Our soldiers were held by death and many chisels.
Put that rocket ship.
He better India’d.
Can you give me a minute?
That’s bro what am I worried about?

He’s the only one that we want to hear.
He’s the only one that we want to help.
But the foreigner has challenged you.

Liberated me,
bright colors,
and he helped himself,
like a book report,
and he helped every kid in the world
the new statesman.
That’s the formula needed for world change,
the child stands up for himself,
and he’s Indian.
Bravo.